Born of Air, page 12
part #1 of Valdir Chronicles Series
“What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?” Dillion advanced, almost sauntering towards her. “I thought we made it clear with our first beating that you weren’t welcome here.” Kalina swallowed, trying to find the right words to respond with. She kept backing up, one foot behind the other, her hands trailing the shelves. Her bruises had barely begun to heal, turning a nasty shade of yellow. Her eye had gone back to normal and her nose, while still sore, was no longer red or swollen. She wasn’t sure she could handle a second beating.
Suddenly the boys froze. Kalina strained her ears for what had stopped them, glancing behind herself for the reason, risking taking her eyes off them for a moment. The sounds of voices coming near reached her ears, and when she looked back at the group of boys, they had gone, scattering as quickly and quietly as they had appeared. Kalina sighed in relief, listening to the arguing voices of two scholars coming closer, one aisle over from where she stood. She froze, listening hard as a word reached her ears.
“…all traces of the Valdir. It’s impossible! But the man sure is trying.” The first voice she didn’t recognize but the second belonged to Scholar Alexil she was sure.
“I don’t understand his obsession with the Valdir. He has come to me again and again, searching for them and the girl, but he hasn’t seemed to have found them yet. I’m not convinced she exists, and perhaps they fled the continent altogether. ” That was Kalina’s greatest fear. There was no way she’d find them then.
“I keep bringing him books whenever I come across mentions of them, but he still isn’t satisfied. He once asked me to write a letter to the chief librarian of Alben, trying to see if they have heard of the Valdir to the south.” Alben was their neighboring country to the southwest, as Askor was to their North and Wostrad to their south. Perhaps she needed to search in the histories of other countries to find mention of them. Kalina held her breath as the scholars walked past her hiding place in the next row.
“Well, surely the Prince has an extensive private collection by now?” Scholar Alexil sounded annoyed.
“He does indeed. And he won’t allow me to even transcribe a second copy of those books. He just insists on keeping them for himself.”
Kalina let out her breath as their voices faded into the distance. The prince had all the recent books about the Valdir. That was why she hadn’t been able to find a single mention of them in the last hundred years anywhere in the library. All her hours of searching felt fruitless. She still wondered why the prince was so concerned with little old her.
Kalina sighed. She needed to find a way into the Prince’s rooms. Those books could hold the key, some clue as to where her people had fled, where they hid, Whether they were even still alive. It seemed she had one piece of the puzzle, and the prince possessed the other.
Late that night Kalina slipped from her rooms, pausing for only a moment to pet Moose on the head before heading into the dark corridors of the castle. It was a fairly normal sight to see a scribe wandering the halls late at night, and with her dark clothing, she was hard to detect when she slipped into shadows as people passed her by. She carried a book about dragons in her arms, and in her pocket was a map of the castle she had found in castle records in the library.
She knew that the prince’s rooms were in the east wing on the third floor, next door to the princess’ rooms She didn’t really have much of a plan, but she knew from the records that he had an outer chamber, an inner bedroom, a sitting room, and a bathing room, all connected by doors. The bedroom and the bathing room were farthest from the outer rooms and she reasoned he must keep his books in his outer rooms or his sitting room.
Around her, the castle was as quiet as the grave and she padded softly down the eastern corridor to the ornate doors that were the entrance to the prince’s rooms. To her immense surprise, there were only two guards on duty. She remembered the servants’ stairs had doors to each sitting room where most of the royals took their meals, and after contemplating whether there would be a guard stationed by the servants' entrance, she hurried to the entrance to the servants' stairs at the end of the hall.
It was dark except for the light of a torch on the stair, and the short passage to his sitting room was pitch black. She stepped just inside the passage, waiting until her eyes had adjusted to the darkness and she could make out the faint outline of a doorway in the gloom. She paused before it, took her hair and tied it up on her head, getting it out of her face and somehow making her feel more prepared for whatever waited beyond that door. She paused to listen, but there was no noise and no guard.
She pushed it open, having tucked the book on dragons into her pocket, and with a quick look to make sure she was alone, stepped inside the room. It was lit by a single candle burning on a table by two floor-to-ceiling double doors. The furnishings were beyond astonishing.
Kalina had never seen anything so decadent in all her life, not even Father Martin’s rooms had been this well-appointed, this luxurious. There were tapestries on the walls and rich deep carpets on the floors. Each piece of furniture was elegantly made and some even looked to be trimmed in gold leaf. There were bookshelves that stretched to the ceilings and a large table surrounded by chairs that was piled with papers and books. Kalina crept forward, her feet luxuriating in the plush carpet beneath them despite her thin-soled shoes. Scribes wore slippers so that their steps were soft and quiet in the library.
She stood beside the table and focused on its contents. The dimness of the room made reading exact words difficult so she took a small stub of a candle from her own pockets and went to light it on the one burning by the doors. Pausing to listen, she could hear someone’s deep and even breathing from beyond the door and with a cold feeling settling in her stomach, she realized the prince must be asleep beyond those very doors. There was a set of smaller doors on the opposite wall that she assumed led to the outer receiving room.
Along the wall opposite where she had entered, there were large windows, and as she watched, the moon that had been previously hidden by clouds became suddenly visible, lighting the room with a silvery glow. Her foot hit a loose floorboard and she froze at the resulting squeak, terror pounding through her. The snoring paused for a moment before continuing and after a few moments, she breathed a light sigh.
Kalina went back to the table and, without moving the books and papers, began to read what was written there. Most of the books were on the Valdir and her heart leapt to finally read their names on the papers. The prince had highlighted different passages, each referencing the Valdir in a different part of the country. Some mentioned the Borderlands, some the Great Grey Mountains, some the Deep Glen Forest, and even some the Wastes.
There was a large map pinned to a wall, with colored pins all over, each she assumed meant something but one, in particular, was silver, the only silver pin on the board, and it was stuck deep into Hywell Abbey. Her abbey. She stood frozen. The prince knew where she had been, and perhaps even who she was; had Sir Gregan known her name? She couldn’t remember if the townsfolk had revealed that much. Fear churned in her gut and she forced herself to turn back to the table and search.
She began picking up and moving the books, reading and flipping through the passages, trying to set them down as she had found them. One book mentioned that all Valdir children were born with silver hair. Her hand went to her own hair, grateful it was still dyed. She was on week two and knew that soon she’d be heading into town on her day off so Calla could dye it for her again.
She left the prince’s rooms that night more confused than she had been before she’d found the books on the Valdir. She had looked at his bookshelves as well, not daring to take down books in fear of making noise, but didn’t find anything that would lead her to the Valdir. The prince’s map stuck out in her head as she trudged back to her room in the library. He knew where she had been. She just hoped that she wouldn’t run into the prince again, in case he had somehow figured out who she was.
She fell into bed exhausted, knowing the next day of work would be difficult due to so little sleep, but just before she drifted off, she knew she’d be going back the next night to search the prince’s rooms further.
Chapter 22
Kalina quietly pushed open the door to the prince’s rooms again, but this time she carried an already lit candle with her. The room was darker than the night before, no candle left burning this night. She crept forward, heading for the table stacked with books.
She had just sat down at an already pulled out chair, a book before her that discussed the end of the war and speculated on what had happened to the Valdir, when a blazing light and the sudden clomp of boots made her leap up, knocking the chair back onto the floor, and knocking her candle over. The flame lit the edge of a sheaf of papers on fire, and as Kalina took steps backward away from the table, rough hands grabbed her and held her; someone came forward in the dark, swearing as they quickly put out the small fire.
Her heart raced and she struggled in the hands that held her, trying to turn towards the partially open servants’ doorway, hoping to escape. She didn’t know what had happened, or how in the world she had been caught, but now that she was, her heart sank into her feet. This was it. This was the end. The prince had caught her and she was going to be killed.
The bright light that had blinded her so became a bright flame, as someone went around and lit the braziers and candles in the room, lighting the space as bright as daylight. Kalina blinked as she took in the scene around her. Two guards in green and gold palace livery held her arms. Sir Gregan and another guard stood at attention by the doors to the prince’s rooms. The prince himself stood by the table; his hands black with soot from the fire he had just put out.
“A mouse was going through my things last night, and I thought perhaps it would be back tonight.” He smiled a snake-like smile at Kalina, who kept her eyes down. She didn’t know what this man wanted, so she would play it safe and wait and see. “I was lucky my little trap worked.” He took a few steps towards her and tilted her chin up, noting her blue eyes and her brown hair. He eyed her roots for a few moments as if searching for the silver that wasn’t there. “You’re that scribe my wife introduced me to. Katrina was it?”
“Yes, your Highness.” She didn’t bother correcting him. Either he knew who she was or he didn’t. No reason to play right into his hands.
“Hmmm.” He began walking around the large table, his hands clasped behind his back. “Now the question is, who are you and what to do with you?” She didn’t know what she hoped for. She had spent all her life in the abbey, and since she’d been in Ravenhelm she hadn’t learned as much about the world as she felt like she needed to know right at that moment. She just hoped she wouldn’t die. She had to keep her relationship with Talon secret. The prince already knew about the princess and her, but not the depth of their budding friendship. She swallowed as the man continued to pace the room, eyeing her thoughtfully. “While I decide your fate, you will spend your time in our dungeon as our guest.” He waved a hand in dismissal and Kalina was dragged from the room, Sir Gregan leading the way. She struggled; if only she could get away, she could run for the library or the gardens, two places where she knew she could outrun and hide from the guards, but they had a solid grip on her arms.
They dragged her down hallways and flight after flight of stone stairs until there were no more hallways and only tunnels, dark but for torches set into the wall every ten feet or so. It was growing colder and damper the lower they descended, and soon the tunnels opened out into a large underground chamber. There were cells set into the walls here, going the entire perimeter of the chamber; the center of the chamber was open, a chair bolted to the stone in the center with straps. Kalina’s heart rose into her throat as the men dragged her past that chair and into a cell. She had a feeling she knew what that chair was used for.
The guards threw her unceremoniously onto the floor of a cell, skinning her knees on the rough stone, closing the iron gate behind her with a dull clang. The far wall was made of stone, and the two sides were iron grates so that you could see your neighbors if you had any. There was no cot, only a bundle of ratty old blankets, and a chamber pot in one corner against the wall. She sat up, rubbing her bruised hands, and looked around, fear growing in her chest. The only light came from across the large chamber where torches lit the walls. She could hear shuffling, sniffing, and sobbing coming from somewhere off to her right, but she could only see a few cells down before it disappeared into the gloom.
It was cold. Bone deep cold and Kalina shivered as she crawled towards the pile of dirty blankets. She unraveled them, finding them mostly full of holes and smelling of urine and sweat, and she put them back down, unsure whether she had reached a point where she was willing to wrap herself in them. She pulled her black scribes robes around her more firmly, tucking in her hands and arms, and pulling her feet into her chest. She put her back to the wall, as there was a slight draft coming down the tunnel and into the chamber, and sniffed. She might never see Talon, or the princess, or Calla, or Anders, or Issa ever again. She already missed them terribly, and a few tears slid down her cheeks at her fate as she pressed her head into her knees and waited.
Time had no meaning in that dark place. Kalina knew she slept at some point but had no idea how long. Her joints and bones had begun to ache and she was contemplating getting up and walking her cell to get the circulation moving when she heard footsteps coming down the tunnel.
The prince stepped into view and Kalina’s blood ran cold. This was it. She was going to end up in that chair. Two guards flanked him as he approached her cell. His cold face seemed even colder down in this damp, dark place. His unremarkable features suddenly seemed grotesque to Kalina as she waited for whatever was to come. The prince stopped before her cell and watched her for a few moments before nodding to the guards. Sir Gregan stood beside his prince. They came forward and unlocked her door and hauled her up and out into the main chamber.
They dragged her as she began to fight in silent horror as they forced her to sit in the chair. Kalina could see old blood staining the wooden arms of the chair and the dark stain around the base of the chair was unmistakable. Her stomach rose into her throat and for a moment she was grateful she hadn’t eaten in hours; her bladder cramped uncomfortably as though she might mess herself. She stank of fear.
The prince approached her and withdrew from the sleeve of his coat a long, sharp blade. Kalina began to sweat, fear twisting her gut as her mind raced to hold on to each thought. He smiled at her terror.
“I plan to ask you a few questions, Karina. If you answer them, and I am satisfied with those answers, you won’t receive a cut. If you don’t answer them, then I will cut you.” He grinned at her, his dark eyes sparkling in the gloom. Kalina swallowed and nodded her understanding. Her breath was so shallow she wasn’t sure she could speak, but she knew she had to. She was beginning to feel lightheaded, that familiar panic setting in. She struggled to hold herself together, to think clearly as the prince lay the knife on her forearm.
“Who are you?” What could she tell him? If she revealed who she was, would they kill her? If she lied, would he know? She decided she would rely on her trusty old habits of weaving truth and lies together.
“I’m an orphan.” The prince’s eyes lit at her answer but she continued. “My parents died of the pox when I was a child and I was sent to Whitepoint Abbey.” That abbey was farther north than her own, but their High Father, Father Sidall, had come to visit their abbey two years ago so she knew enough about that abbey to pass. If she said Hywell, then Sir Gregan would know instantly who she was. “I came to Ravenhelm a few years ago and worked in the kitchen of the White Dove Inn.” Her voice shook as she spoke. She mixed in familiar landmarks with a believable story. The prince narrowed his eyes, glancing up at the roots of her hair.
“Whitepoint, you say?” He sounded like he almost didn’t believe her. She swallowed and held her breath as the prince stepped away from her, removing his blade and beginning to pace. “Why were you in my rooms?”
“I heard you had books on the Valdir. I wanted to read about them but knew I couldn’t come to ask you directly.”
“Why are you so interested in the Valdir?” Kalina desperately wanted to ask him that very same question but she swallowed and answered.
“They sound interesting. I read an old text that talked about their culture and I’ve been quite fascinated with them since.” There, another nugget for him to parse out. “When I couldn’t find any information in the library, I asked a scholar. They said you had all the books.” The prince looked at her suddenly, his eyes flashing.
“What scholar?” Kalina swallowed, her mouth dry.
“I don’t remember his name, your Highness. I’m new at the library and I have met so many scholars.” The prince narrowed his eyes at her once again. Somehow, he was buying her story, but she wondered for how long. Her eyes flicked to Sir Gregan beside the prince. His eyes were narrowed in suspicion.
“So, let me get this straight.” Kalina’s stomach churned again. “You read a fairy story and decided to risk your life and your job to break into my rooms and read my books?” She blinked. He didn’t buy her story. She clenched her hands on the arms of the chair, her knuckles going white as the prince came close. His blade flashed out, slicing a long cut down her forearm. She hissed as the blood welled.
“Yes, your Highness. I wasn’t thinking, I-” she broke off as the prince slashed out again slicing her from her hairline down to her chin on her left cheek. She cried out, as the pain hit her a moment later, and blood began to pour down her face. She could taste copper in her mouth and knew the knife had cut through her cheek.
